It Just Ain't the Same
by PorcelanaRota
Summary: It wasn't the Curtis brothers' parents who died in the car crash, but Two-Bit's mom. Now, Two-Bit faces the stresses of bills, his sister's safety, and his father making his way back into his and his sister's lives. With these challenges, how will Two-Bit stay the wise-cracking greaser the Curtis gang all know and love? (Major AU)
1. Prolog

**A/N**

 **This is my first story on this site, so cheers for me! Do you know how long it took me to figure out how this dang site works?! Weeks, I tell you, weeks! Months, even. Or maybe I'm being over-dramatic. Eh. But really, I had to look up how to post a story. My pride bleeds because of that. But, anyway~! Here it is, the results of my boredom and over-active curiosity/imagination:**

He was having that dream again, that horrible one about that horrible night.

 _"Please, sweetie. I just want you to stop drinking."_

Her voice was always there, soft like a whisper, begging him to _just stop drinking_.

 _"I know, Ma, I know. I'm really trying!"_

He'd plead his case, he'd say that he's trying to stop taking a bottle to his lips, because he sees his sister's face every time he does, he sees her face—

 _"Well, sometimes I wonder!"_

And then there was the sound of twisting metal, screams, and the shattering of life itself, and Keith "Two-Bit" Matthews would wake up, knowing that it was never just a dream, never just a nightmare. It was cold, hard reality.

The worst part, however, was that it was his entire fault his mom was dead.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N**

 **So... I forgot the disclaimer yesterday... So you know, I don't own The Outsiders, because if I did, Dally would have lived and stuff... But anyway~! I forgot to tell you guys some stuff yesterday, besides the disclaimer-thingy... Here they are:**

 **1) Two-Bit is sixteen in this, not eighteen-and-a-half like in the books, and is soon to turn seventeen. My reasoning for this is because I need a valid reason for Two-Bit not to get custody over Karen (the name I decided to use for his sister) besides the facts of him having no job and being totally lazy. So there. Also, the reason why I chose Two-Bit's mom to die and not Steve's dad or something is because I really enjoy taking a fun-loving character high on smiles and rainbows and turning them into the saddest little creature ever. That and there aren't enough Two-Bit-centric hurt/comfort fics out there. (Well, there are, but 99.9% of them are OC-centric and romances.)**

 **2) Mr. Curtis will be referred to as Darrel, and Darry will just be... well, Darry.**

 **3) Mr. Matthews will be referred to as Keith or Keith, Sr. unless said otherwise.**

 **4) There is a little bit of cursing in this chapter... It is rated T for a reason.**

 **5) The word count for this chapter is 1,459. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

 _Is it wrong to wish it was someone else?_ Two-Bit thought to himself, his arm in a cast and his face stony as he stared straight ahead, not looking at the priest, not looking at the gang, not looking at his mother's friends or that bastard that could honestly claim to be his and Karen's father—especially not him. To him, Keith, Sr. was not someone he was related to, not someone he even _knew_ , and that bastard thought that he could walk up and come into his life right after the passing of his mother? (Two-Bit ignored the facts that he was still in high school, and that his eighteenth birthday was another year or so away, and that he had no job, so there was no way he could care for himself _and_ Karen. Hell, he barely remembered to care for Karen's _cat_ , much less himself!) Well, Two-Bit wasn't having any of it; he planned on being as stubborn and ridiculous as possible, and it being him, he knew he'd succeed.

He rolled his eyes when he caught sight of his father shedding more than a few tears—the bastard hadn't even seen his mom in seven years, hadn't talked to her in five. Keith, Sr. was just digging for pity-points, and if he didn't stop, he'd be missing a few teeth courtesy of Two-Bit himself.

A hand was suddenly on his shoulder, and he turned to look at the sympathetic face of Mrs. Elizabeth Curtis, the woman who was practically his second mom. She gave him this sad sort of smile, and he just sighed through his nose and gave an attempt at smiling back. He then turned away from Mrs. Curtis (who demanded that all the boys in the gang call her Mom or Elizabeth) and to his sister.

To say he was worried about her was an understatement. The young, nearly thirteen-year-old girl had been unemotional since she had gotten news of her mother's death. At first, she was in denial. _("Keith Wayne Matthews, Jr., stop lying to me!")_ Then, she threw accusations _. ("This is_ _ **all your fault**_ _, Two-Bit!_ _ **I hate you**_ _!")_ And now she was silent. He didn't care that she yelled at him or blamed him (because it was his fault…), he just wanted her to talk to him. She could kick, punch, and beat him until oblivion for all he cared, just as long as she _talked_ to him while doing it. Call him pathetic, but he needed to hear his baby sister's voice.

His gaze finally landed on Karen's face. Her eyes, usually brown and bright like their mother's had been, were murky and stormy scared, as if she was trudging through a blizzard when it should be summer. Her eyes were the only things that gave away her true thoughts, as her face was cold and emotionless, her mouth in a flat line, and her freckled cheeks dry.

Two-Bit wondered to himself when she'd break.

Later that day, after hours of some sincere and some not-so-sincere condolences and nostalgic stories, Mr. Curtis asked if he could talk with Two-Bit. Two-Bit merely shrugged in response and climbed into Darrel, Sr.'s truck— _the metal was twisting, the tires screeching_ —and he hoped the man wouldn't go into an "I-know-what-you're-going-through" speech. The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Two-Bit silently wondered where they were going, and what was going to be said-please, no empathy. They continued on driving until they reached the park, the one where only couples and little kids go.

"You wanna walk, or stay in the truck?" Darrel asked, and Two-Bit merely shrugged as his reply. He didn't particularly care, and it didn't matter to him. (Because it seemed that nothing mattered anymore.)

Darrel sighed at the boy's silent answer, remembering a time when he was all laughter and jokes and quips-a time when there was light in those gray eyes of Two-Bit's. Now, however, there was nothing but darkness, it seemed. Not only did it scare Darrel and Elizabeth, but it scared everyone in his group of friends-Darry, Sodapop, Ponyboy, Johnny, Steve, even Dally! Because when light left a person's eyes, when they no longer held anything bright or starry, they became like Dallas Winston. They become tough, and nothing can touch them. They become tough, and then they don't know how to feel anymore.

"We'll walk, then," Darrel decided, not saying any of his concerned thoughts. Not his, not his wife's, not even unfeeling Dallas Winston. "It'll calm your head. Clear your mind."

Two-Bit nodded, and Darrel frowned at his continuing silence. They got out of the truck, feet stomping on cold granite, and began to walk through the tranquil area. The two stayed closemouthed for a while longer while they walked, until they came to a stop at the fountain. Then, Darrel said to Two-Bit, "You know that you and your sister are welcome at our house anytime, right?"

Two-Bit nodded at this, still silent, but looking confused. It had always been that way, ever since Two-Bit met the Curtis brothers six-and-a-half-years ago. They could walk into their house anytime they needed or wanted.

"Good." Darrel nodded. "Now, son, I'm not going to go into a speech on how I know what you're going through." _Thank God_ , Two-Bit thought, _for small miracles_.

Darrel went on, "I do think that it's a good idea for you to talk to someone, though, or at least talk." Here he gave Two-Bit a significant and pointed look. Taking the hint, he replies softly, "What do you want me to say?"

Darrel resisted a smile that still shone through, "I don't expect you to just start wisecracking as usual, as if nothing happened, because something _did_ —" Two-Bit winced ( _your fault, your fault_ ) "—and people just don't bounce back from things like this. However, you should talk every once in a while, whether it's just to say hello."

Two-Bit was quiet once again, looking down into the clear water of the fountain. He bit his lip, unsure on how to reply.

Darrel just sighed and said, "You can come and talk to me if you ever need to, Keith." At the use of his real name, Two-Bit's head jerked up. He honestly forgot that Darrel knew his real name. Heck, he forgot that the entire gang knew what his real name was. (In fact, the main reason why no one called him Keith was because it was one of the few things he was actually sensitive about. Not even the gang knew why, though. Not even the gang….)

They stood in silence for a while more, and then Darrel said, "We should be heading back now, hmm? I bet your sister and father are worried." Two-Bit barely held back a scoff. His father hadn't been worried about him in at least nine years, and as for his sister? Well, he certainly wouldn't worry for the one who killed his mother.

* * *

"Well? How'd it go?" Elizabeth instantly asked once Darrel got home from talking with Two-Bit. She and Darrel were in their bedroom, Elizabeth having dragged her husband in there as soon as he stepped through the front door. Darrel and Elizabeth had been gone at least an hour, so Elizabeth assumed that Two-Bit had broken down or something similar. Her hopes, however, were crushed when her husband simply shook his head and sighed. "What are we going to do?" she despaired in a whisper, "You _know_ that poor boy hates his father."

"I can't do anything if he won't talk to me!" Darrel said gently back. "Its… disconcerting. He's usually so rambunctious and such a jokester… and now I can barely get him to say more than two words."

"I bet it's because of what Karen said to him," Elizabeth sighed, suddenly looking much older than she really was.

"What did Karen say?" Darrel asked, suddenly more concerned than he was before.

"She said… I was there when Two-Bit was told by the doctors that Marie had died. He didn't want to tell Karen alone, remember? So I drove him to his house and he told little Karen."

"What'd she say?"

"She just went wild, screaming that Two-Bit was lying, and then she started on about how it was entirely his fault."

Darrel sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "The kid is too young to have that thrown on him," he grumbled.

"What are we going to do?" Elizabeth asked.

"Just… be there for him, I suppose," Darrel replied. "I'm not sure there's much else we can do."

Unknown to the lovers, the entire gang—sans Two-Bit, of course—was behind their door, listening in in concern for their friend.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 **Ugh, it took forever to type this up... Do you have any idea how much time I wasted doing this instead of my math homework? This is the reason why I am failing Algebra II. Meh. I honestly wouldn't do that even if it was the only way to connect to WiFi, so I guess I shouldn't blame it on writing...**

 **Anyway! This chapter includes Karen and Two-Bit bonding and Karen and Ponyboy bonding, as per request by two viewers, Pony'sgirlfriend and edgeof4teeners (respectively, of course). Both were things I wanted to get to, anyway, so I'm sorry if it seems a bit rushed!**

 **By the way, there's a mention of Oklahoman weather in this chapter. It's definitely true. Weather in OK changes fast because of the humid air coming from the Gulf of Mexico and the cool, northern air coming from the Rocky Mountains & Canada. Its why they've got so many tornadoes and stuff. They've got weird weather. **

**Oh, and before anyone freaks out over the contents of this chapter, there are no set pairings between anyone, besides a few canon ships. Just a few hints at a couple of things.**

 **The word count is 2,019.**

 **Hopefully the sibling bonding sort of deal is fluffy enough! I'm not really good at that sort of deal, but I can write tragedy quite well... I am a horrible person in that sense. Moving on, I plan to put in more Gang/Two-Bit interaction next chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The sun shone through his shutters stubbornly, orange light of sunrise peeking through the blinds. With a groan, Two-Bit rose from the bed, having had another restless night of the sounds of screams and metal clashing. His feet touched the ruthlessly cold floor, reminding him that it was late July, and that it should be summer, not early spring like how it felt.

He stretched, scratching his back in a true teenaged boy fashion, holding back a yawn as he did so. It was now Saturday, the funeral having been yesterday.

He walked to his dresser and pulled out a random pair of jeans and T-shirt, throwing them on carefully and then pulling on his jacket slowly, mindful of his broken right arm. The cast would be taken off in another two weeks, as it had been only a minor fracture, but it was a major inconvenience.

Two-Bit slowly made his way down the hall, his head feeling fuzzy as if stuffed with cotton. Surely, it was exhaustion that was making him feel this way. Many sleepless nights were beginning to catch up to him, haunting him throughout the day as a reminder. He shook his head when he caught a whiff of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and a sweet twinge of maple syrup. He couldn't remember the last time he ate breakfast at his house, as his mom was usually too tired from her shifts to get up in the morning, so who...?

"Good morning!" His answer came to him in a too-cheerful voice for so early in the morning, for so close to a tragedy. It was his father's.

"I made you pancakes and scrambled eggs, just the way you like!" Keith then shoved a plate full of said food products, a grin on his face that closely resembled Two-Bit's own when he looked into the mirror. He looked down at the plate, a stack of four pancakes with in syrup, butter, and whipped cream decorating the top and scrambled eggs on the side. _He really remembered that from six years ago?_ he wondered to himself.

"And I'm not sure if you still don't like bacon-" _That too?_ Two-Bit thought, surprised, "-so I just gave you an extra pancake." His father continued on, but Two-Bit was in too much a state of shock to care or notice until his sister came down.

Instantly, Two-Bit sat down and began to eat slowly, surprised by how the taste of the pancakes was perfectly fluffy and sweet. An eyebrow raised at that, not really believing that his father could accomplish such a feat, but lowered when he realized his sister was silent, even as their father showered her with breakfast foods galore. He turned to look at her, and saw her glaring at him.

He flinched and looked back at his food, suddenly not hungry. The pancakes and eggs were abruptly immensely unappetizing, but then he thought of how he hadn't eaten in days, and he forced the food in with sudden distaste. He kept the dislike off his face, not in the mood to get in a fight or even a conversation with Keith.

Keith continued happily talking to the both of them, either completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere or just ignoring it to hourly calm things down.

Once done eating, Two-Bit mumbles something about going to the Curtis's and jumps into his piece of shit truck (and Keith said something about getting him a better one. Two-Bit thinks he's trying to buy his affections. It'll never work.) He drives his rickety truck over to the Curtis household, fully planning on just staring at their TV for a couple of mindless hours, but then he passes the house. He keeps on driving, passing by many possible stops, but never bothering to do so. He was careful to stay within greaser territory, of course, but other than that, he was in a daze.

Every turn he made, he just did mechanically. Every stop sign or speed limit sign, he regarded with care, remembering the mistake-she didn't see the sign...He suddenly stopped and pulled over, recognizing where he was. The houses all across both sides of the street were generally the same, all having peeling paint and nearly out of control lawns. There was nothing significant about it. But it was the where the crash happened.

Closing his eyes, Two-Bit slammed his head on the steering wheel and screamed.

* * *

He didn't leave from the street for a while. He just sat there and sobbed, crying for the first time since getting the news of his mother's death. He knew it was his fault, he had told himself, so he shouldn't cry. _Murderers_ don't get to cry.

(Secretly, he was sickened by the fact that he couldn't bring himself to conjure up a few tears. He just couldn't cry. What monster doesn't cry over his mom's death?)

And because of this, it was all coming out now. Every tear shed was for every second he didn't allow himself to mourn. Every sob that escaped was for every sleepless night. And the single scream he cried was for the loss of his mom.

Eventually, he stopped crying. His cheeks dried and his eyes could no longer provide tears that he could use to lament with. Something inside remained beyond repair, however, and no amount of tears, sobs, or screams could ever fix it.

With his little... episode, Two-Bit decided to call it, over, he drove to the DX to fill up his truck's tank. Luckily, Steve wasn't working there today, so Two-Bit knew it'd be okay to go there without any questions of his red eyes. While there, he walked into the public bathroom and washed his face, successfully removing any evidence of his episode. Afterwards, he decided to check in on the Curtis's.

He drove on silently, not wanting to have another episode like he just did. (He wouldn't admit it, but he felt sort of frightened by it.)

* * *

Karen let out a frustrated sigh, seeing her idiot brother left behind his wallet and driver's license on the table. She shook her head, bringing her hand to her face in exasperation. It was like he wanted to get arrested, like that Dallas Winston fellow that he hangs out with. As much as she wanted to let him land himself in jail for driving without a license, she didn't want to stay alone in this house with a man she could barely remember. (And even the few memories she could recall were fuzzy and more of just a face and a few sounds.) She picked up the lazy bum's wallet and made her way to the Curtis's (that was where he said he was going, right?).

She stopped at their house, torn between knocking and just walking in, but then she took a deep breath and just opened the door. She gently shut it, not wanting to wake anyone who might still be asleep, and tiptoed her way into the living room. In there, she saw the placid forms of Johnny and Dally, both asleep. She rolled her eyes at the awkward position Dally was in (he had his feet propped up on the couch, the rest of his body on the floor, while Johnny was taking up the majority of the couch). Her brother had weird friends.

She heard the sound of sizzling bacon coming from the kitchen, so she began to move on from the living room. She was just about to exit when she ran straight into someone's chest.

"Ponyboy?" she questioned, a bit shocked and embarrassed. She was such a klutz! And… Was Ponyboy shirtless?

….Why, yes, yes he was. He was in nothing but jeans.

She really hoped he didn't notice her blush.

Luckily for her, Ponyboy was blushing as well, humiliated to be seen by his friend's kid sister bare-chested.

"Karen," he whispered, not wanting to wake up Johnny or Dally, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," she said, instantly defensive, "So I can't visit my brother's friends without having a reason?"

"No!" Ponyboy said, "But I really doubt you came over to say 'Hi.'"

"Right," Karen sighed, "Keith forgot his wallet and license, and he said he was driving over here, so I brought them over. But I didn't see his car in the driveway…?"

 _Keith?_ Ponyboy questioned himself, _Since when has she referred to Two-Bit as Keith?_ Aloud, he said, "No, he's not here. He probably went to get gas or something on the way."

Karen rolled her eyes at this information and pulled out Two-Bit's wallet and license, handing them to Ponyboy. "Okay, sure. Here's his crap, I'm going out. Bye." She began to walk away, but Ponyboy grabbed her shoulder and said, "Wait!"

She turned back around, an eyebrow raised (taught to her by Two-Bit, of course). "Yes?"

Ponyboy blushed, not knowing why exactly he asked her to wait. He quickly improvised, "My Mom said that you told Two-Bit that it was his fault that… you know. That's not true, is it?" He mentally cursed his bluntness. _Stupid_ , he called himself _; I really_ don't _use my head._

"Only because it is true!" Karen hissed out, anger flaring that Ponyboy was taking sides. This was family business, private business, not something he should be sticking his nose in. "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

"Karry," Ponyboy sighed, using an old nickname for her. "Then you aren't who I thought you were." He looked at her, shook his head, and asked, "Are you staying for breakfast?"

"No," she said softly, her eyes hurt, "I ate at home. Speaking of which, I'm going back. Bye, Pony."

"Goodbye, Karry."

* * *

That night showed what a true Oklahoma day was like, the skies changing from bright and clear to dark and windy in a matter of hours. The clouds were swirling above the Tulsans, dancing to the beat of thunder and screaming with the lightning.

Two-Bit did much tossing and turning as he slept, the thunder resembling something much darker in his mind, and finally, his eyes shot open. He stayed still; gray orbs open to the darkness, his lungs trying to keep up with his heart. The clashing was back, echoing with every strike.

 _Crrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaak…_. His door slowly opened, and he tensed, his mind wandering back to tales of monsters and bad guys that he heard about when he was a child.

"Two-Bit?"

He jumped up at his name, and he saw his sister standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around her small shoulders. He couldn't see much more than that in the dark.

"Can I sleep in here? I can't sleep." Her voice wavered as she spoke, and her eyes were surely filling with tears from the sound of things.

Two-Bit swallowed, not expecting this. Nevertheless, he nodded and motioned in the darkness, hoping she saw. She did, and she climbed in bed with her brother. They laid down in silence for a bit, and then she said, "I didn't mean it, Two-Bit. I don't think it was your fault."

He stayed silent for a second, a pain in his throat building up that he couldn't seem to swallow. Karen began to think he fell asleep when he talked for the first time that day, "But it is."

Karen sat up sharply, "What? Two-Bit, that's not true! It wasn't your fault." She felt him shrug in response, and she was suddenly devastated. ( _"Then you aren't who I thought you were."_ ) "Please, brother! It isn't your fault!" Tears began to fall from her eyes. "It's not your fault, it's not your fault…."

Two-Bit sat up to hug her, to comfort her. He tried to get her to calm down, but she just kept repeating that it wasn't his fault.

"Okay, I believe you!" he finally said, not really meaning it. "It wasn't my fault. I believe you."

"Good," Karen said tiredly. "I love you, Two-Bit." For some reason, he felt oddly relieved by that.

"I love you, too, Karry."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N**

 **So I'm not dead, just lazy. Sorry for the wait, I've been busy and stressing, which is a sucky combination. I have the next chapter planned out, and I'll try to get it out in a week.**

 **Anyway, in this chapter, we get to see my horrid attempt at PTSD and flashbacks... Of course, back then, PTSD was known as shell-shock, but whatever. I figure that if you see your mom die in front of you, have your own sister blame you for it and so forth, then you'd have PTSD/shell-shock, too. But because of the whole "flashback" deal, should I put in a trigger warning? No? Yes? If so... this would be it. So you know, TW.**

 **Moving on: I don't mean to offend anyone with the entire PTSD, so if you've got it and I portrayed this horridly, scarily, sickeningly wrong, PM me or something and tell me what its like for you, I guess.**

 **Have a great weekend! :)**

 **Word Count: 1,195**

* * *

Two-Bit silently watched the television before him, his mind blank for once. Lately, all he could think of was her accusing voice. Sometimes it hurt when he thought of it, of how her voice cracked when she begged for him to just _stop drinking so much—_

He blinked, trying to wash away the thoughts that always come back.

He refocused on the TV, watching as the Twilight Zone theme song played. He tried to lose himself in the horror stories shown by the TV, so that he could forget his own.

The woman onscreen screamed, and suddenly her dark hair was light, like Karen's, and she looked just like _her—_

His breathing spiked and Sodapop looked at him in concern from the couch. His palms began to sweat endlessly, his eyes shifting. He wasn't in the Curtis house anymore. Suddenly he was on the street, in his mom's car. He wiped his hands on his jeans, asking himself why he was in his mom's car, and _why was she next to him, because she's dead_. His chest began to feel heavy, as if an elephant was resting upon it.

" _I just want you to stop drinking_ ," his mom whispered to him. His breathing spiked and he quickly stood from the floor.

"Two-Bit...?" Sodapop cautiously said. Something in him snapped; all he could feel were thousands of pairs of eyes staring at him, judging him. He had to get away.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Two-Bit said shortly, rushing for said room. He took long strides, doing his best to not look like someone who was losing it. On his way, he bumped into Elizabeth, and he muttered a half-hearted apology; he was too panicky to feel guilty.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked.

"Fine." He wasn't sure if he said that harshly or not, because the memory of blonde hair staining red was overtaking his vision.

He finally got into the bathroom, and he locked the door behind him and slid down against it, pulling his knees to his chest and his hands to his face. He was shocked to feel hot tears, but not surprised. He was a mess.

The memories continued onward, playing over and over again in his head without pause. It was worse than the nightmares he was constantly subjected to every night; these were during the day, set off by something as stupid as a TV show... He was pathetic. He certainly felt like it. He also felt like he was going insane. This didn't happen to normal people. Whatever this is... it shouldn't be something that is considered normal.

His knuckles quaked from how hard he was clenching them, and his shoulders trembled from the memories that would be better if repressed. His sobs were silent but so choking that he nearly threw up, and he had to move to the toilet in fear that he really would. He didn't, but that was somehow worse. His stomach churned in protest of sitting up, and his heart gladly joined in on the boycott by trying to thump from his chest. The beating was so loud that he wondered if the Socs could hear it all the way on their side of town.

He ignored the persistent knocking at the door, choosing to instead try to calm himself down. Every attempt left him squeezing his eyes shut in pain, because nothing was working, so he finally just yelled out, "Yes, I'm fine!" He did his best to keep from cussing as he did so—no reason to make the Curtises upset while having this... freak-out. It wasn't even two days after his episode, either.

However, the images of the twisting metal threatened to overcome reality, and so he was slightly thankful for the constant knocks on the door. They were the only thing anchoring him to this world, it seemed.

Suddenly, the memory stopped repeating. At first it was slow, the images fading out first. Then, the sounds did, too, until all he could hear was a distant scream from the other car—that other _fucking car_.

He sat for a moment, testing out this new calm. He breathed in and it, just to be sure, and then he wriggled his fingers experimentally. He ignored the thick liquid he felt squish between them. He knew it was blood. (He had been clenching his fists rather hard...) He then tested out his legs and was happy to find that they were no longer struck with fear, like the rest of his body. Slowly he stood, stretching, thinking that it was strange to be thankful to be in total control of your emotions and body—a normal person shouldn't have to feel thankful. They should be ignorant and foolish and stupid—like he had been.

He moved himself in front of the mirror, curious as to what he looked like after that freak-out. He already had a good idea, though; tear-stained and puffy cheeks, red eyes, still slightly-shaky shoulders, and a pale face.

He was correct in every aspect. To put it shortly, he looked like a ghost.

He put his hand—his unbroken, right hand—in front of his face and tried to hold it still. He couldn't. His hand looked like it was experiencing the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906.

He was definitely not normal.

He pondered to himself on walking out from the bathroom. Should he wait a while? Should he just go out, not answering anything? If he did go out, should he go ahead and answer questions truthfully, or lie his ass off? He certainly couldn't stay here in the bathroom forever, though.

... Actually, was that an option?

"Two-Bit, will you please answer?" Elizabeth called from the door again, knocking.

Apparently not.

He sighed to himself and opened the door before he could regret it.

"Two-Bit..." Elizabeth had sighed in relief at first, but then gazed at him in concern. "You were in there for nearly ten minutes. Are you oka—?"

"Fine," he interrupted before she could go on. " 'M fine. I'm gonna... I'm gonna head home, okay?"

"Sweetie, I really don't think..."

"I'm fine," he repeated again, a little forcefully this time. "I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die." He then gave one of his stupid Two-Bit grins, the one that made everyone think he was okay. Elizabeth clearly didn't believe it, however.

"Two-bit..."

"I'm going home," he sighed. He didn't care if his dad would be there; Keith, Sr. owned a couple of bars one town over, so he really only worked at night, except for on certain occasions. He just wanted to crawl into bed and beg for sleep to grace his mind dreamlessly.

"If you insist," Elizabeth sighed tiredly, and that guilt finally set in.

"Sorry," Two-Bit muttered, his cheeks burning, and he ducked his head down as he maneuvered around her. He stumbled his way into the living room, doing his best to calm Sodapop's incessant questions. Luckily, Elizabeth did all for him, and he made his escape to his truck.

Once inside, he ignored the scarring sound of twisting metal that threatened to cause another freak-out.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N**

 **So its been, like, years since I've updated... What makes it worse, is that this chapter is short. Like, hobbit short. Only 854 words short.**

 **But this chapter is a turning point in the story. As in, turn back now if you need constant trigger warnings about domestic abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, etc. Nothing like self-harm, however, will be a trait in this story. But still, this is where we jump into the conflict between the Socs and greasers, Two-Bit's shell-shock/PTSD, elements like Johnny's home life, druggies, racism (this _is_ the 60s), and drunkards. So, you know, warning. Turn back now and shiz. **

**So, yeah: This is where things start to get deep, even with the hobbity shortness of it. Enjoy the entire 854 words of this!**

* * *

He laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks. He was stretched out on his back, stiff as a rod. He was stressed beyond stress-something Two-Bit didn't think possible.

But it was, it seemed, because right now he was so worried that he was too tired to worry.

It made him feel sick, but he ignored it. His sister might come home while he's wasting time in the bathroom, emptying his stomach. Or at least trying to.

Anyway, that was the thing: His sister wasn't home yet. It was well past midnight, and Keith wouldn't get home till six in the morning because he was acting as the bartender that day for once over in Bartlesville-that town that was a little over an hour away. So that idiot who calls himself a father couldn't do anything about it, but Two-Bit could. Even if it was merely staying up all night to make sure Karen got home safe.

After that, he'd scold her senseless. And then maybe coddle her in the morning. And the next few days or so.

After a while, he finished counting the cracks, so he just let his imagination take over and let the cracks become images-like cloud-watching. There was a horse, a stick-person, a flower, and-was that a lion there? Oh, yes; definitely a lion. How glorious.

He shook his head. He was losing it. What sixteen-year-old sees pictures in the cracks of the ceiling? Him, apparently.

He suddenly hears the doorknob turn, and he sits up silently. He cringed in pain some, his healing bruises protesting the sudden movement after being so still and stiff for seemingly hours, but he brushed it off as quickly as possible and stared intensely at the door. It slowly slides open, and little Karen steps quietly in, her light hair covering her face.

"Karry," he says, and he's momentarily stunned by the squeak in his voice-just how often was he speaking? "What happened? Why were you out so late?" He stands as he says this.

Karen tilts her head up at her brother's voice and she moves her hair from her face. Two-Bit gasps at the black that was starting to show on her skin over her left eye, as well as a bleeding, split upper-lip. She had a jacket over her arms, no doubt hiding more bruises, and he thinks to himself, Who would dare hurt my baby sister?

He doesn't say anything at first. He instead chooses to guide her to the couch and run to grab a glass of water for her to drink, and after handing it to her he asks, 'What happened?" which translated into, "Give me names."

"I-I"-the poor girl had to take several breaths before saying without a stutter, "I was leaving the drive-in with Alice"-her best friend-"and we had to walk 'cause her brother ditched us. This Mustang was followin' us and so we decided to make a run for it, but..." She couldn't go on, she started to bawl like a baby. He clutched his kid sister like a lifeline, whispering stupid nothings that were everything in that moment.

"Can you give me names?"

"I only-y-y recognized o-one; Walter Harrison. He's a-a-a grade above me, I think." Her speech was plagued with hiccups as a result of her crying.

"How many were there?"

"F-fo-four, altogeth-ther."

"They..." Two-Bit swallowed, not even wanting to think about it, "They only hit you girls, though, right? That was-that was it?"

Karen gave a dry sob. "Yeah, yeah. That was it. Oh, thank God that was it! I think they just wanted something to beat on."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Can I... Can I see the rest of your bruises?"

Karen took in a deep breath and began to pull off her jacket, revealing more bruises and what looked like fingernail scratches. She then pulled off her shirt, leaving her only in a bra. Her ribs were littered with purple and blue.

"Oh, golly," Two-Bit said softly. I can't even protect my own kid sister, he thought to himself. He felt her ribs, nothing felt broken.

"I think you're okay," he said quietly. "You wanna go to bed?" She nodded. "I'll carry you." He lifted her up, definitely coddling her now instead of in the morning like he'd told himself, and he made his way to her room.

"No," she whispered. "Can I stay with you tonight?" Two-Bit hesitated for a moment, afraid that she'd start to become dependent on him if she kept sleeping in his room, but he nodded.

"Just for tonight, and maybe tomorrow," he agreed, and he laid her in his bed and laid down next to her. He waited until he knew she was asleep before he started to cry to himself over what happened to his baby sister.

He was suddenly being hugged by his very-much awake sister. He returned it, and they both shed tears. He just hoped she didn't know that he felt that her being jumped was slightly his fault.

They fell asleep like that, cuddling together, crying together.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N**

 **Okay so I'm sorry. That's how I'm starting this out, because it has been forever. I'm sorry. My computer broke down so I couldn't post anything, and I'm only doing so now because I got a tablet for Christmas that allows me to post chapters, unlike my meanie of a phone :(**

 **But anyway, this chapter is sort of short because its a transition between what I call "the beginning " arc and "shit's about to get real" arc. So you have that to look forward to.**

 **Anyway, I apologize for any misspellings or grammar mistakes, I'm typing this on a tablet, remember? And yeah, it does suck, uploading this on a tablet. It's hard enough on a laptop, but now I'm doing it on a dang tablet (I still love you, tablet, just not for typing).**

 **Anyway, enjoy~**

He went to Dallas first.

He was, after all, the hood who could get a job done. Ol' Dally agreed for multiple reasons:

1) There was never a time in which Dally didn't want to beat on someone. Socs especially.

2)Th

is was Two-Bit's kid sister they had jumped, and he was Two-Bit's buddy. This was like an attack on family here.

3)H

e hated Walter Harrison. He'd seen Sylvia practically shagging the Soc maybe a week ago. That, and Harrison was a Soc.

Afte

r getting Dally in on it, he went to the rest of the gang, which basically means he walked into the Curtis household at supper time. When he told them what happened to Karry, their expressions darkened and their jaws clenched.

Ponyboy especially looked upset

Elizabeth kind of just sighed and said, "Just don't get caught," and Darrel asked if he could join in.

Two

-Bit isn't completely sure on whether or not the man was joking out not. Either way, he appreciated the gesture.

They asked around some and found out that Harrison liked to bum around a bar in Soc territory on Fridays, so you can guess what they did on Friday night.

Sur

prisingly (or maybe not), Darrel did, in fact, join in on beating the shit out of the dirty Soc. His motives were unclear, but his actions deeply welcomed. With him, they even weaseled out the names of the other guys who attacked Karen and her friend, and what they were doing that night.

You can guess what they spent the next several hours doing.

They went and hunted down David Cunningham, Brady Richardson, and finally, Bob Sheldon.

Beating Bob Sheldon to a pulp only got better when Johnny recognized him as one of the guys who jumped him last month. Dally gave Sheldon a nice scar to match Johnny's, as well as a few broken ribs. Admittedly, as soon as Johnny recognized Sheldon, they let Dally take over the situation.

Two-But is pretty sure he's never seen so much blood in one night, even though he's been in a rumble. Even though he's been in a car accident.

Speaking of which, it seems like hell need to keep his arm brace on for a few extra weeks, now. In the light of these past events, he took it off to join in on the severe ass-kicking they gave to those Socs. Whatever, it was worth it. Revenge has never tasted sweeter.

They just had to hope that they didn't get caught.

Which, they didn't.

A month passed, and it was now August, and school was starting soon. Two-Bit made a deal with himself to actually try this semester, as he wanted to finish school as soon as possible and get a job to get himself and his sister away from their dad. The man was starting to act odd and jumpy, a little out of character. It was off-putting. The man-as much as Two-Bit hated to admit it-was usually rather easy-going and carefree, not this overly-cautious man who looked over his shoulder near-constantly. To say he was suspicious was an understatement.

Anyway, this past month, he's only freaked out four times like he did at the Curtis's awhile back, and he's actually been getting sleep since a week ago. He dared to hope that everything might be getting better-ignoring the mess with his dad, but that was a whole other situation that Two-But found himself uncaring for. The point was, everything seemed a bit better, a bit brighter.

Sadly for Two-Bit, it was only the calm before the storm.

 _ **And on that foreboding note, I hope you all have a merry Christmas!**_


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N**

 **I have no excuse for this very, very late update, and for that, I apologize. Please do not hunt me down because of my laziness and neglect. Please enjoy my attempt at a piece offering.**

 **Kudos to those who will have a vague notion of what's going on in this chapter, but don't give it away in the reviews, please :)**

It was the day before the start of school, and Two-Bit and the gang were going to take the time to enjoy it thoroughly. They all piled into Darry's truck and drove down to a lake that was just out of town. They had had Elizabeth gather bunches of food into a basket to snack on when they started to become hungry, and plenty of beer (it's five o' clock somewhere) for those of the group Darry thought of as "old enough," which basically meant anyone could have some as long as your name was not Ponyboy or Johnny.

It only took five minutes for the first water fight to break out, an twenty minutes for it to end. (What happened was Steve accidently splashing Dally, who specifically said to leave him out. Dally chased Steve around for maybe five minutes as everyone else watched, laughing as Steve called for help.)

(Yes, they all were a bit sadistic.)

After Dally was done with nearly drowing Steve, they all sat down for lunch, and discovered that Elizabeth had packed them chocolate cake for their meal. Various cheers went up, all praising the greatness that was Mrs. Curtis, and they all ate happily. Their ecstasy continued all throughout the remainder of the day, laughter ringing everywhere around them. When the clock hit six, Darry made them all load into the truck and drove them back into town, as he was the only one that was sober-he didn't miss seeing Soda sneak a beer to Johnny, who got his license just a week ago. One by one, they were all dropped off at whatever place they were staying that night.

When Two-Bit was dropped off, he walked into the kitchen, wanting just a snack so he could go to bed early for a hopefully restful sleep. To his surprise, his dad and Mark Jennings, another greaser that bummed around with the Douglas family.

"Uh, dad?" He didnt know he spoke until they looked up at him.

Mark quickly put his hands in his pockets and slouched, looking very suspicious to Two-Bit. He raised his eyebrow in askance. "What is Jennings doing here?"

"I was asking him if he could fix your truck," his dad said smoothly, copying his son's movement with his eyebrow. "I heard he was good with cars."

 _Good at stealing them, maybe,_ Two-Bit thought to himself. Everyone knew that not only was Mark Jennings a hustler, but he took cars for joyrides, too.

"Yeah, he was," Mark said, bringing his hand up to scratch at his golden hair. "I told him I'd take a look at it."

"You think you can fix her?" Two-Bit asked.

"Maybe," Mark said, letting his hand fall, "I'll see what I can do."

"Right," Two-Bit snorted, and then grabbed an apple from a bowl on the table. "I'm going to bed." He didn't wait for response and just quickly left for his room.

At the doorway to his room, his sister stood with her arms crossed. "They tell you they were talking about your truck?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You believe them?"

"Not at all."


End file.
